


A Lesson in Polishing

by thekeyholder



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Comedy, Episode Related, M/M, Oblivious, POV First Person, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-25
Updated: 2013-01-25
Packaged: 2017-11-26 20:48:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/654265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekeyholder/pseuds/thekeyholder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>George’s POV. A little ‘behind the scenes’ of episode 6 season 4. Of course, George is completely oblivious of what’s going on between Merlin and Arthur.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lesson in Polishing

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the fest at [merlin_canon](merlin-canon.livejournal.com). I hope you enjoy the brass jokes. Thank you to [millionstar](http://millionstar.livejournal.com/) for betaing this and [laurad2609](http://laurad2609.livejournal.com/) for encouraging me.

Maybe my big day has come. The day when I can finally prove that I've learned the tricks of my occupation and that I am the best in this field.  
  
I’ve just returned from Guinevere – she is, in fact, a childhood friend – who told me some fantastic news: “George, the King is in urgent need of a new servant and since you’re the best one inside the walls of Camelot, this noble duty is to be given to you.”  
  
I was filled with gratitude and bowed before Guinevere (rumours say that she is to marry our king very soon – she went a long way!), thanking her with honest words. I even felt tears stinging my eyes, but I had to man up and be proud of my achievement with a serious expression on my face.  
  
I am certain that this is my big day, the day when I can prove that I am worthy of King Arthur’s trust.

*** * * * ***

  
  
Waking up at dawn is not easy, but my purpose is floating before my eyes and it encourages me to soldier on. I didn’t sleep well because in the neighbouring room my friend Peter, and a servant girl who’s working in the kitchen, were moving heavy pieces of furniture, or, well, I don’t know exactly what they were up to, but they were moaning loudly even past midnight. I entered the King’s room slowly as not to wake him and looked for the chores I had to do.  
  
I notice the discarded armour and sword in the corner of the and carefully gather them to take care of them without disturbing the king’s sleep. I wonder how he was able to cut anything with this sword, it is so blunt! It's really no surprise that he needed a new manservant. Although I know that it was not King Arthur who sacked his former manservant, I can’t be sure if the rumours are true. I overheard some men discussing in the market a few days ago that the king, accompanied by his manservant and the knights, went on a secret mission, but somebody betrayed them and the manservant was captured by mercenaries. His Highness even sent patrols to search the forest, but there was no sign of him. I think the king must be a really generous and fair man if he did this for a servant!  
  
After I finish cleaning up the room, I proceed to go to the kitchen in search of various foods, so the king can choose whatever he wishes to eat. Guinevere greets me in the corridors and tells me to go to her room after I finish, because she wants me to change my clothes. I find that slightly odd, but I do as I am told – she might become my future queen, after all. Guinevere has prepared a blue shirt, a brown leather jacket and a red neckerchief. She leaves me alone until I change into the shirt and put on the jacket and I am about to go back and leave the neckerchief there, because I honestly don’t like to wear them, but Guinevere stops me:  
  
“George! Don’t forget the neckerchief!”  
  
“But, Guinevere…I don’t like to wear neckerchiefs,” I say, but my friend just wraps it around my neck with a smile.  
  
“George, you wouldn’t let a neckerchief stand between you and the honour of being Arthur’s manservant, right?”  
  
“Certainly not,” I mumble as I take off the hated red piece of clothing, sigh reluctantly and put it on so that only a tiny piece is visible above the shirt.  
  
“Well, I suppose you could wear it like that,” Guinevere states and lolls her head to the right. “Although you don’t look like Merlin,” she mumbles to herself.  
  
I leave confused, wondering what she meant by that. For all I know, Merlin was the king’s former manservant. Why should I resemble him? That’s an odd thing for Gwen to say, I will have to ask her about it later. I hurry back to the king’s room and wait patiently until he wakes up. He looks confusedly at me and asks me who I am.  
  
“I am your new manservant, Sire,” I reply dutifully, though I thought that Guinevere would have told him about me. “I have polished your armour, sharpened your sword, selected your clothes – there’s a slight chill in the air today, Sir. And now, if you would allow me, I would like to serve you breakfast.”  
  
King Arthur’s eyes widen as he looks at the rich breakfast on the table; he asks about my name.  
  
“George, Sire, at your service.”  
  
I put a napkin on his chest and I’m handing him a plate and a goblet, while the king is mumbling something about his former manservant: “Listen, George, this is very impressive. Very impressive indeed. But I already have a manservant. All right, he’s shabby looking, has appalling manners, is extremely forgetful and seems to spend most of his time in the tavern, but he is my manservant.”  
  
I’m about to give the king a fork, frowning at all the flaws of Merlin (why hasn’t the king sacked him before now?!) and wondering why is King Arthur so possessive of him, despite everything he said.  
  
“And to be honest, I quite like it that way,” he ends, throwing the napkin on my face and getting out of his bed, leaving me there, gawping like a fish out of water.  
  
I gather the food and take it back to the kitchen, feeling a bit defeated and disappointed. Maybe I am not a good servant. After all, Merlin has been the king’s manservant for years and he knows him already. ‘Maybe I cannot replace him,’ I think to myself and walk back slowly to King Arthur’s chamber.  
  
“George, why the long face?” Guinevere appears suddenly in front of me, carrying some folded sheets.  
  
“Well, the first morning with the king didn’t go that well,” I confess as we enter the royal chamber, Gwen going straight to the bed to change the old sheets.  
  
“Hmm, I suspected that…” she sighs.  
  
“I just feel that I let him down,” I whisper, still upset.  
  
“Oh, don’t say that, George! You’re one of the best servants and you’re so hard-working! It’s just that Arthur needs time with strangers. Besides, Merlin’s been in Arthur’s service for years and they’ve become good friends in the meantime. You’d be worried as well if your friend was missing for three days.” Guinevere cheers me up and pats me gently on the back. “Don’t you ever doubt your qualities! Maybe you’re lucky and this was your first and last day as Arthur’s manservant.”  
  
“What do you mean?” I ask curiously.  
  
“Well, Arthur just left with Gwaine; they’re going to search the forests for Merlin once more. Maybe they will lucky and find him and you can return to your usual duties.”  
  
“Yes, that would be probably for the best. Thank you, Guinevere!”

*** * * * ***

  
  
At around noon, while sharpening the knights’ swords in the armoury, I hear noise outside. I peek out of the window and notice Sir Gwaine and King Arthur arriving on their horses. After a while I realise there’s someone else sitting behind the king, but I can’t recognise the man because he’s covered from head to toe in mud. The king gets off and offers his hand to the stranger saying:  
  
“Come on, Merlin, let me help you. Go home and wash yourself, then have a good rest. You get this day off, all right?”  
  
So they did find Merlin after all! I wonder what happened to him, he looks awful. On the other hand, King Arthur showed again the nobleness and mercifulness of his heart. That is the exact reason why I would have loved to be His Highness’ manservant. Lucky Merlin!  
  
A couple of hours later I meet Guinevere in the kitchen, bringing back what seem to be the remains of the king’s lunch.  
  
“Hi, George! Have you heard that Arthur and Gwaine found Merlin?” she asks cheerfully.  
  
“I saw them. So what happened? Merlin looked pretty…uh, dirty,” I say, eagerly waiting for my friend’s reply.  
  
“He only remembers being captured by those bandits and then waking up in a ditch two days later,” Gwen says with a frown.  
  
“That sounds strange.”  
  
“Indeed. And Merlin acted so weirdly when he found me serving Arthur’s lunch. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was jealous,” Gwen whispers deep in thought.  
  
I must have made a silly grimace because she whispers hurriedly: “That was just a ridiculous thought. Forget it. Who knows what those bandits did to him or maybe he hit his head on a rock.”

*** * * * ***

  
  
Two days passed since King Arthur saved Merlin. I have returned to my usual duties and I must say that I feel content, especially that I can clean again the brass objects in the castle. There’s nothing more beautiful than brass: its unique colour, its mysterious shine, the tingle it produces in me when I touch it…moreover, it is incredibly useful, they make so many objects out of it! Oh and the brass trumpets produce such powerful sounds, the metallic vibrations make my skin burst into goosebumps!  
  
Even though I’m tempted to say that everything is back to normal, there’s something different in the air. While the King seems to be smiling more, Merlin is walking around with a curious, predatory glint in his eyes. I also noticed Guinevere sneaking after them and sometimes even Gaius, the court physician, was with her. Does she have serious concerns about Arthur’s loyalty? I thought they were a couple, but since I’ve been observing them more closely, they seem more like friends or acquaintances.  
  
Late afternoon, when I’m finally done with my chores and I’m heading to my little chamber, I hear yelling:  
  
“MERLIN! Where have you disappeared to again?!”  
  
King Arthur bursts out from the council room extremely angry while Gaius tries to calm him.  
  
“Gaius! Where is he?” the king demands.  
  
“I don’t know…” the old man pants.  
  
“Gaius!” the order comes now even sharper.  
  
“Uh…I believe Merlin is in the tavern, Sire, and he intends to spend the end of the week there.”  
  
“Of course he’s there, I should have known. Idiot,” the king mumbles and suddenly walks in my direction.  
  
I turn tail, ready to flee, but King Arthur’s voice stops me: “Ah, George! Exactly the man I was looking for!”  
  
I turn back and walk up to the king with my head bowed.  
  
“Come on, chap, I have an offer for you!” King Arthur says with a wicked smile.

*** * * * ***

  
  
King Arthur has taken me back into his service for the first time since Merlin went missing and I have the feeling that he has some further plans. Since Gwen told me that Arthur and Merlin became friends throughout the years, I decide to be less rigid and formal. I have an idea which will surely not fail me: I’ll entertain the king with brass jokes!  
  
As planned, while King Arthur is having his breakfast, I enumerate his duties for the day: “Sir, the training with the knights starts in less than an hour and in the afternoon there’s a council meeting. I selected warmer clothes, we’re still facing brass monkey weather,” I say with a slight smile.  
  
“All right. I presume Merlin still hasn’t emerged from the tavern?” the king asks while stuffing his mouth.  
  
Again that inexplicable attachment between these two!  
  
“No, Sire, but I could kick his brass out of the tavern,” I reply smiling, King Arthur choking on his drink. I guess he liked my little joke.  
  
“No need for that, George. Let him come to me,” King Arthur says, an unusual shine flashing in his blue eyes. “He will get his just deserts.”

*** * * * ***

  
  
It’s a beautiful afternoon and I’m telling funny stories to the king while he’s writing a speech.  
  
“I’ve met someone whose name was Brassley James. He looked like you, Sire. Or maybe he was called James Brassley, I don’t remember, and…”  
  
“Arthur, Merlin came back!” Guinevere shouts as she bursts into the chamber.  
  
Hasn’t anybody learned how to open a door nicely here in Camelot? They’re going to ruin the brass handles!  
  
“Ah, our drunkard! Guinevere, please tell him to show himself whenever he feels sober enough,” the king orders, rubbing his hands together.  
  
I’m about to continue my story when the king interrupts me: “George, this is the part where I’m going to need you. Remember that conversation we had a few days ago, right? Wait outside that door and only come in when I call you.”  
  
“Yes, Sire,” I bow and do as instructed, excited about the reproach Merlin’s going to get.  
  
A couple of minutes later I hear the other door opening and I look through the keyhole so I can also see the conversation, not only hear it.  
  
“Two whole days in the tavern,” King Arthur starts.  
  
“I-I’m not quite sure it was that long,” Merlin replies, his guiltiness evident.  
  
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t get rid of you on the spot.”  
  
“Because you would have no one to polish your armour, make you breakfast, organise your clothes…” Merlin runs out of arguments.  
  
“Well, that’s where you’re wrong. George!”  
  
Oi, that’s the sign! I have to enter the scene.  
  
“Merlin, meet George,” the king presents me and we nod to each other.  
  
I feel slightly superior because I know a few things about him while he practically faces me for the first time. Merlin is confused, haha!  
  
“George is perhaps the most efficient servant I’ve ever seen,” King Arthur says and I feel my knees going weak.  
  
That is the best praise I’ve ever received! Oh, good lord, can this be true? The king of Camelot called me the most efficient servant he’s ever seen? My heart can’t hold so much happiness! I think I let a bit of pride and shock slip onto my face.  
  
“He will be spending the week teaching you,” the king declares seriously, looking intently at his manservant.  
  
“Teaching me?” Merlin frowns.  
  
“If you wish to remain in my service,” King Arthur says categorically.  
  
“We will start in the armoury,” I inform Merlin. “Lesson one is my favourite – polishing.”  
  
“Yes, that’s my favourite too,” Merlin replies, a bit annoyed, I think.  
  
I nod and then I signal with my head in the direction of the armoury, leaving the chamber and waiting outside.  
  
Merlin is following me, but then he remembers something and turns back: “Tell me something,” he says to the king as he approaches him. Unfortunately, they are whispering so I can’t hear the question, but then the king sends Merlin back: “Anyway, off you go. It’ll be fun!”  
  
Merlin has a silly smile plastered on his face when he exits the chamber and honestly, I can’t figure out why. While initiating him in the secrets of polishing, I can’t stop asking myself why the king was so merciful with Merlin. I mean a week of lessons with me, the most efficient servant, is actually a reward, isn’t it? I come to the conclusion that King Arthur is possibly the best king in the world, for he knows that physical punishment is not the solution. You have to change the mind of your people and then you won’t have any problems with them in the future.  
  
“Always be polite!” is my last bit of advice to my apprentice.  
  
After we finish the first lesson, Merlin and I head back to the castle and as we pass the royal chamber, the king peeks out and says: “Ah, you finished for today, right? Thank you, George, you can go and rest, but I’d like Merlin to stay and show me what he has learned today.”  
  
Merlin grimaces and glares at the smiling king, while I pretend to walk back to my chamber. After they close the door, I tiptoe back to hear how the ‘demonstration’ goes.  
  
“Merlin, I hope you realise that you owe me. That punishment I give you was nothing,” King Arthur declares and I can hear some swishing sounds.  
  
“Oh!” Merlin exclaims and continues after a brief pause: “I see that your sword needs seeing to, Sire? Allow me to give it a good polishing.”  
  
“That’s a good boy. I want you on your knees and let’s hear that lesson you had.”  
  
“Sire, I was taught that the objects of great value have to be handled with great care, even if they are hard,” Merlin purrs, his voice filled with passion for polishing, I hope. “If one wants to truly unite with something, one has to put their hands on it and feel it's every throb.”  
  
“Perfect so far, Merlin. Go on, I think you can varnish the sword, so your fingers can travel more easily on it,” King Arthur commands.  
  
From what I can hear, the king is encouraging Merlin, the boy remaining silent and only squelching sounds fill the room.  
  
“Ah, Merlin, if I didn’t know better, I’d say that you’re experienced in this field.”  
  
“You can rest assured, my dear Sire, your sword is the only one I’m interested in,” Merlin confesses between gasps.  
  
Hmm, he must be working hard on that sword if he’s panting! I do hope that he’s giving his best because my reputation too is committed.  
  
“Oh, that’s so good, Merlin. Your hands are magical! I think you can apply the final touches, you proved me how skilful you are,” the king says in a shaky voice.  
  
“Ah, ah, Merlin! Oh my god!” King Arthur cries out loudly.  
  
Wow, the shine of the sword must have really impressed him.  
  
“I hope you are satisfied, Sire?” Merlin asks.  
  
“Oh, yes. You did a great job, Merlin. I knew from the first moment I laid my eyes on you that you had something special. You had this sparkle in your eyes, but I just wasn’t sure you’d accept to take on this kind of tasks,” the king confesses.  
  
“I’d do _anything_ for you, Sire.”  
  
This scene brought me to the brink of tears, so I decide that I heard enough to be sure that my place in Camelot is safe. I head to my chamber with the beatific thoughts that Merlin has successfully learned what I taught him and the king was extremely satisfied with the result.  
  
 _‘I am a happy man,_ ’ I think as I catch my smiling face in the reflection of a brass plate.


End file.
